WALTZING MATILDA

Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong,
Under the shade of a coolibah tree,
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled,
"Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?"
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled,
"Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?"
Down came a jumbuck to drink at the billabong:
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee.
And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker-bag,
"You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me."
And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker-bag,
"You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me."

Up rode a squatter, mounted on his thoroughbred;
Down came the troopers, one, two, three:
"Who's that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker-bag?
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.
Who's that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker-bag?
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!"

Up jumped the swagman and sprang into the billabong;
"You'll never catch me alive!" said he;
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong,
"You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!"
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong,
"You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!"

-from Oz

* swagman: an intinerant farmhand, carrying his "swag" (his blankets) rolled
into a cylinder
* billabong: a creek (normally with a pronounced "oxbow" bend)
* coolibah tree: a eucalypt (gum) tree )
* waited till his billy boiled: a billy is a tin can used to heat water over
a campfire to make tea
* jumbuck: sheep
* tucker-bag: bag or box used to store food
* squatter: farmer/grazier who simply found good land and took possession;
some became extremely rich
* trooper: policeman or soldier on horseback

THE FREEDOM TO BE MYSELF

I think I know what I want. Here are the things that would make me happy. I
shall not want other things.

I want a room of my own, where I can work. A room that is neither
particularly clean nor orderly.

But a room comfortable and intimate and familiar. An atmosphere full of
smoke and the smell of books and unaccountable odors. On the shelf overlying
the couch are books, a good variety of them, but not too many--only thosa I
can read or I have read with profit again. against the opinion of all the
book reviewers of the world. None that takes too long to read, none that has
a sustained argument and none that has too cold splendor of logic.

I want some decent gentlemen´s clothing that I have worn for some time and a
pair of old shoes. I want the freedom to wear as little as I care to.

I want a home where I can be myself. I want to hear my wife´s voice and the
children´s laughter uptairs when I am working downtairs, and downtairs when
I am working uptairs.

I want children who are children, who will go with me to play in the rain. I
want a patch of ground where my children can build brick houses and fee
chikens and water flowers. I want to hear a cock crying cock-a-doodle-do in
the morning. I want tall, old trees in the neighborhood.

I want some good friends, friends who are as familiar as life itself,
friends to whom I need not to be polite, and who will tell me all their
troubles, matrimonial or otherwise, who can quote Aristophanes and crack
some dirty jokes, firends who are spiritually rich and who can talk dirt and
philosophy with the same candor, friends who have definite hobbies and
opinions about persons and things, who have their private beliefs and
respect mine.

I want a good cook, who knows how to cook vegetables and make delicious
soups. I want an old, old servant, who thinks I am a great man, but does not
know where my greatness is.

I want a good library, some good cigars and a woman who understands me and
leaves me free to do my work.
I WANT THE FREEDOM TO BE MYSELF

-Unknown

"FLAP-FLAP"

One small baby bird sitting on a tree
looking at the marvelous beauty
of the reds and yellows and greens
of the nature once again in its teens
overjoyed and probably over satisfied
with everything life has put beside
never a sorry nor a sigh
till the day he saw another baby bird fly

Not of jealousy nor disdain
just of the little right ankle's pain
knew-it all along and never dared
to step out of the tree it shared
with its parents kind and sweet
singing all day tweet-tweet

Chirped out loud to birds passing by
"teach me teach me how to fly"
there were three who stopped to help
chats like this were never felt
when it talked to his dad and mum
always teaching him to be calm
talking to peers, the vigor it brings
tried again to flap his little wings

Took his first flight forgetting the hurt
risk it was but excitement sure lurked
zooming into the higher blue
all the four now friends so true

One day two day and day three
time it was for the friends to leave
birds of flight may not recall
teaching the baby not to fall
but how will this poor baby bird Pete
forget his life's first fleet

A flip flap here and a flap flap there
didn’t take long for Pete to dare
to fly across the woods and hills
the place in heart that joy fills
but real joy was yet to arrive
she had just seen another bird strive

-Naveen Kumar

INVISIBLE DISTANCE

Wake up early in the morning
watch the beautiful sunrise
touched by the fresh windy air
to my soul's delight

English breakfast on the table
with fragrant earl-grey
with every relaxed thought
surely a promising day

Face my desktop
write reports non-stop
“busy?” Surely it does seem
worth leads to self-esteem

Lunch to dinner
the hours are few
sunset arrives
with a tantalizing hue

Watch the evening news
connected I am
follwed by action-drama
entertain me all I can

Throwing off my remaining clothes
as I fall in my bed
recollection of a perfect day
dawns upon my head

Everything so fine
so peacefully divine
though of any second person
there is no sign

Realized I did
the joy I miss
of sharing my life
whether happiness or strife

And just when I saw
the wide empty shell
of longing desire
of love -should I spell?

Loneliness is a dagger
which I did not see
till it goes right through
and then I knew it was true

Now I remember
the sunrise and sunset
now I remember
earl-grey - the promising day

And in every thought and
emotions remote
I find myself caught
in shackles of no-hope

And the pain grows stronger
as life seems to cease
will my tomorrow
pass with today-like ease

Focus I on the hollow of box
focus I on the dark
focus I on the sea-bed of rocks
deep where I seem to drown

Sounds does it pessimistic?
I will suggest deep
did I say too much thus far
or did I too much keep

Fishing life is full of shit
no true friends here exist
hatred if not betrayals
I know heart's shape is but a fist

Truth hurts always it does
and lies we learn to live
we're made to dream of perfection
isn't that a happy take and give?

I stand now on the balcony
sleep is far away
deep in my own melancholy
silence of sorrow stays

No hope no hope no hope
is all I hear inside
every positive thought that births
is killed at its first sight

Calm down- must I tell myself
this life I have to live
no reason why can't answer
afraid of cowardice

With every fresh-windy-air-morning thought
three of the sorrow combine
it’s like a lot of happy soldiers dying
battlefield the brain is mine!

Took a while but I began to see
the twilight in the sky
beautiful did the moon appear
as I looked up with my eyes

The rabbit shape some used to say
no trying hard to spot
and as I turned my other way
my attention Ursa caught

The trees so blue so dark
the shadows on the street
the beauty in the silence now
among depths I found new peak

A new peek at the world
a world my window showed
a world that sleeps in darkness
why everything so low

Cycle I see in my life
and cycle in the nature
cycle this world goes through too
even kings of highest stature

I am a citizen of this world
with many desires to gain
other people's love and care
but nothings free from pain

If definition of pain it is
the opposite of joy
then will there any joy be felt
with no inverse to compare by

Sad then should I be
why not, just another emotion it is
as long as in the visible distance
the dawn-lights my eyes see

-Naveen Kumar